


Anniversary Day

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU.  Goth!Trowa and Prep!Quatre celebrate their one year anniversary.  Of course things don't go as planned, but Trowa saves the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary Day

**Author's Note:**

> Importing all my old fics. Used to be on Y!Gallery, but that's no more. Any mistakes are from when it was posted then. Circa 2010.
> 
> Also, I love this pair of tropes. I don't know why!!

Quatre stormed up the stairs and slammed his door as loud as he could, sliding the lock home at the same time. For once his father did not follow him to continue their argument through a closed door. For that he was grateful. How his father could do this to him, he couldn’t understand. But tonight of all nights! His laptop sat open on his desk and when his messenger pinged and started to blink, he rolled over and ignored it. When it pinged again, less than two seconds later, he sighed heavily, as teenagers are so often able to do with their entire bodies. He pulled the rolling chair out and flopped down into it, hands sliding over the hard plastic of the arms, eyes drifting closed in a wonderfully wanton memory. His first sexual encounter with Trowa had occurred on this very chair. He’d been working on a paper for school, and Trowa had invited himself over, content to just lounge on his bed and watch him. Trowa had done a lot of that… And for some reason, the feeling… The sensation of eyes on him seemed to excite and arouse him. His cock began to harden, just recalling that first time. He allowed himself to sink back and let the memory wash over him.

He sat typing at his computer, eyes tingling with a familiar burning sensation, knowing he was tired, but he forced them to stay open. The thesis he was working on had to be finished tonight. It wasn’t due until his last class of the day, but he wasn’t going to have time to finish it during the day. He had an exam and then a student assembly to lead. Time did not exist for Quatre Winner, valedictorian of the school. His bed creaked and he risked his concentration to look over. The school goth, Trowa Barton, lounged on his bed, black manicured fingers tracing idle lines over the stitching on the quilt. His feet hung off the side of the bed, weighted down by huge black steel toed combat boots. His pants were wide-legged, black with purple stitching, chains attached in a seemingly haphazard pattern. On top, he was wearing a simple white ribbed tank top under a long purple fishnet shirt with a hood pulled up in a sort of makeshift collar. Around his neck, a thin leather spiked choker and a set of black dog tags. Today, his eyes were done in a familiar combination of black and purple, lashes curved up with non-clumping mascara. He was the epitome of sex, hair falling just so over his face, hiding one of his eyes. Quatre suppressed a shiver and turned quickly back to his screen, trying to bring his focus back to the paper.

He sighed and let his head fall against the back of the chair, eyes staring at the ceiling as he struggled to arrange the thoughts for his paper swirling through his brain. He was so focused on his internal thoughts that his ears weren’t really tuned to the rest of the room, so he missed the creak of his bed and let out a short cry of surprise when his chair suddenly moved backwards. His arms flailed and he tried to keep himself from falling, thinking he’d overbalanced himself. Suddenly, his jeans were ripped open and a warm hand was reaching into his boxers, withdrawing his semi-hard shaft. He cried out again, and brought his gaze down. A single bright emerald eye winked up at him from just above a rather seductive smile. Then, before the blonde could speak, his boyfriend of just under a week was swallowing his cock whole, allowing the tip to bump the back of his throat. Quatre cried out and Trowa moaned softly, head bobbing quickly, tongue licking along the flesh. He pulled his mouth up and let his tongue tickle over the very tip of Quatre’s cock, slowly and carefully worming the tip of his tongue into the small slit a at the top as it seemed to expand under his touches, fully hard in just moments. Trowa hadn’t admitted it, but this was his first decent look at his lover’s shaft. It was slightly shorter than his own seven inches in length, but Quatre was two inches, maybe a slight bit more in thickness. He didn’t care about color, and set himself to concentrating on what his mouth was doing, grinning when he heard Quatre gasp at the gentle and shallow insertion. The blonde’s hands grabbed at his hair, his mouth hung open in a gasp. Trowa pulled his mouth away, trailing his tongue down the length and back up, shaping his mouth into an ‘o’ and letting his mouth stop just below Quatre’s tip.

“Trowa…”

Quatre whimpered and put both hands on the sides of his boyfriend’s head and began to arch his hips up and down, movements steady, pace slightly rushed. Trowa knelt between his spread legs, allowing the small blonde to fuck his mouth. One of his hands moved to caress and carefully hold his sac in the palm of his hand, rolling and teasing his balls. Quatre let out a cry and jerked, hips shoving up and staying up, his cock twitching in the warm recess of Trowa’s mouth, come spilling out in a white rush, coating that wet cavern. Trowa started to swallow, mouth tightening as he did so, drawing out Quatre’s orgasm. Quatre’s cock gave a final twitch, lying partially hard in his boyfriend’s mouth, and he sank back into the chair, chest heaving as he tried to take in enough air to breathe. Trowa pulled up, licking his lips as he smiled at Quatre and tucked him back inside.

“You’ve got a paper to work on. It’s getting late,” he whispered, moving back over to the bed, flopping onto it, eyes never leaving the blonde’s body.

Quatre groaned and turned back to the screen, smiling at his thoughtfulness. He began to type again, thoughts coming much clearer. He turned to face Trowa and pursed his lips in a kiss at him, smiling at Trowa as if he were the only boy in the world for him.

Quatre was snapped out of his memories by AIM making more noises at him. He clicked on the tab and it brought up a small screen of instant messages. The only one that had an exclamation mark was the very top one, the one that was always there, from Trowa. He pulled it up and read it, mouth turning into a soft frown. He grabbed at his cell phone and held down a button, letting it connect and pressing it to his ear, waiting for Trowa to pick up.

“Quatre,” Trowa purred in a seductive tone, smiling though his lover couldn’t see it, before he continued. “I was getting worried. You’re never late.”

“Sorry Trowa… I know it’s our one year, but my dad is home and is in one of his moods. He’s taken almost every privilege from me. I get to keep my phone for work and my computer for school. I can’t go out tonight… So no dinner, no awesome…”

Quatre couldn’t say anything else. His heart was in his throat, and there was wetness in his eyes. It was only their first year anniversary; they’d had dinner plans at a wonderful restaurant, a reserved hotel room, and presents… He’d bought something small, a sort of trinket, but Trowa had admired it, stared at it, debated and ultimately not bought the ring. But Quatre had watched the emotions on his face, the way he smiled at it, the almost gentle touch he’d used when he had examined it closely. He’d handed it back to the sales associate and they’d moved on. The next day when Quatre had to work across the mall, where a single shirt could be thirty dollars or a pair of jeans over a hundred, and each was a name brand, where only more wealthy families shopped, he’d gone a bit early and stopped by the polar opposite of where he worked, a place full of things trying to avoid being mainstream and picked up the ring and a little something to wrap it in. It had taken a tremendous amount of willpower to not just give him the gift early.

“Quatre, you’re not listening to me,” Trowa said in a calm voice, a plan working in his mind. “I’ll call and cancel the reservations. You just rest Quatre. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Alright Trowa…” Quatre said softly, blinking his eyes quickly, tears starting to slip from the corners of his eyes. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Never since he’d been with Trowa… They had been so happy, had drama, fought, but never ever had he cried. He walked over to his window as he stewed in his thoughts, looking out at the dark.

“… and Quatre?” Trowa paused for a moment. “Leave your window open tonight. There’s going to be a beautiful storm coming in and you should listen to it as you fall asleep.”

“Happy anniversary Trowa,” Quatre whispered, still struggling with his emotions.

“I love you too, Quatre.”

Quatre smiled and clicked the phone shut, placing it on his desk. He shrugged out of his polo and slipped his jeans down his hips. He padded over to the window in his light blue silk boxers and white tank top, pushing his window open as wide as it would go. He placed his elbows on the sill and put his head on his hands, looking out. A small patch of roof sat under his window, connected to the ground by a simple trellis. The grass spread out from the house, blades swaying in the breeze. He tilted his gaze upwards and smiled. The night sky was full of heavy dark clouds, and there was a hint… A whiff of something on the air brought a promise of rain. Trowa had been right, of course. He laughed and pushed himself away from the window, shrugging off his tank and dropping it to the floor. He spared one last glance out the window and turned for his bed. He walked past his bookcase, filled with all sorts of novels and pictures of his friends, and small knick knacks to his bed just on the other side. It was a very old huge four poster with a canopy top, which he’d draped with a sheer black fabric that hung part way down, only obstructing the view of outside when one was sitting up on the bed. The sheets were black, soft and comfortable at a thousand thread count. The white and black quilt had been folded and placed atop the large wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. It was just too hot for that blanket, air conditioning or not. He pulled the sheet up a bit and slid under the top sheet, curling onto his right side, facing his closet, back to the window.

“Trowa…” he whispered, pressing his face into his pillow, blanket falling just over his hips.

His eyes welled up with unshed tears as he lay on his bed, but at some point, he drifted off into that light sleep where one is dancing the thread between conscious and unconscious. He let out a sound that was between a whimper and a sigh as he shifted, sheet falling a bit more, but he never rolled onto his other side. As he lay, tossing and shifting, making sleep filled noises, Trowa stood on the grass under Quatre’s window, smiling. He shifted his backpack on his shoulders and put his arms up, grabbing onto the trellis and planting his feet into some lower foot holds. He began to climb, one foot and hand above the other until he got to the tricky part at the top. The trellis ended right at the gutter, and there weren’t many hand-holds up on the roof. Before he released his last hand hold, he swung his bag up and onto the roof to make himself less top heavy. He took a deep breath, and for once was glad he’d done gymnastics and was very limber on his feet.

“I’m coming for you, Quatre…” he whispered, grabbing onto the gutter and lifting a leg up onto the small expanse of room, grateful that it was fairly flat and not an incline.

He kept his grip on the gutter and brought his other leg up, hanging on for dear life until his lower body was flat on the roof. He loosened his grip and pushed the rest of his body up onto the roof and let out a deep breath that he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. He crawled to Quatre’s open window after picking up his bag and leaned inside, placing the bag on the floor just under the window. He held his breath as the bag hit the floor, waiting on bated breath, relieved when Quatre didn’t make any noises. He put his feet over the sill and dropped down as quietly as he could inside, glad that he’d worn a pair of tight jeans and sneakers. He left the window open and reached into his bag to pull out a small black velvet box. He opened it and smiled, toeing off his shoes, leaving them next to his bag. Next off was his plain black t-shirt, which he dropped atop his shoes. Quatre still hadn’t moved, his back was still to the window. Trowa walked to the door to his room on silent feet and flipped the lock, pulling the door open a bit, letting a long shaft of light fall onto the floor.

“Trowa?” Quatre asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, sitting up a bit on his bed.

“Happy anniversary, Quatre.”

Quatre smiled and started to climb out of bed when Trowa seemed to just appear before him, pressing him to the bed with a gentle hand, shaking his head in a no motion. Quatre nodded and watched with rapt attention on his lover as he reached with very steady hands to place a small object on the bedside table before they snapped open and unzipped his jeans then slipped them down long and toned legs. Quatre shivered and felt arousal stirring inside him, not surprised that his lover didn’t have anything on underneath.

“Close the door love! My dad is home,” Quatre hissed, pouting up at his lover, hoping they were going to…

“You’re just going to have to be quiet, Quat. That’s all,” Trowa said with a smirk, slipping under the sheet next to the blonde.

Quatre started to slide out on the other side of the bed, intent on closing and locking the door so his father wouldn’t poke his head in. That would lead to an entire other fight, one he was not up to having since most of the night had already been spoiled, though Trowa had managed to somehow make it right by being daring enough to sneak into his room. Trowa reached out and grabbed his upper arm, yanking him back down to the bed, pinning him with a look and that lone hand on his arm.

“Stay. It’s going to add to the excitement… It will make it better. Trust me,” Trowa whispered, leaning close to nip softly at his lover’s ear, reaching a hand back to grab the box, placing it on Quatre’s thigh.

“What’s this?”

“Your present of course. There can’t be an anniversary without any gifts, right?”

Quatre blushed and set the box on the bed next to Trowa, getting off the bed and walking around it to his desk. Against his better judgment, he did not touch the door. He pulled open one of the drawers on his desk and removed a small bundle of black and green fabric, bringing it over to the bed, sitting back under the sheet next to his very naked and mostly happy lover.

“This is for you then.”

Trowa took the small bundle from him and sat up a bit, starting to unfold and tug at the fabric, well aware of Quatre’s eyes on him. Quatre couldn’t help but watch him. In the early stages of their dating, Trowa had confessed to him that he hadn’t really ever received many gifts. Those that he had he treasured, and took his time with. The first time Quatre had given him a gift, just because he’d wanted to, Trowa had almost refused it. But he turned himself away from such thoughts and watched Trowa’s face as he found the treasure that was wrapped inside the bandana. When he found the ring, his face seemed to light up for a moment. He just held the bandana and ring in the palm of his hand and looked from the ring to Quatre and a small smile blossomed on his face. The ring itself was a simple silver band, but the decoration was the miniature dragon that was caught in mid flight, mouth open wide showing off its teeth attached to the band. What made it even prettier were the small green stones set in place of the eyes, which made the ring almost alive. Quatre took it from the palm of his hand and slipped it onto Trowa’s ring finger on his left hand and smiled up at him, rising to his knees to plant a chaste kiss on his lover’s lips.

“Thank you… I thought they would sell them all before I got one… When I went the other day and they told me they were gone,” Trowa said, moving and tilting his hand, admiring the silver against his skin.

“The day after we first saw it. I went back and bought it before work. It’s been hell to keep it a secret, but the longing on your face; I just had to get it.”

Trowa smiled once again at his lover’s thoughtfulness and let the bandana flutter to the bed and grasped Quatre firmly by the upper arms, crushing them together as his mouth touched and brushed over Quatre’s face until their lips met. Then he seemed to feed from the blonde’s lips, each movement, each noise, fueling Trowa’s arousal. He pressed them tighter, mouth moving, tongue delving into his partner’s mouth, teasing, offering a mere preview of the final actions that would occur. They broke apart, chests heaving and looking at each other with glassed over eyes.

“Please,” one of them whispered, voice consumed with desire and adoration, softly begging for what they both needed, what they had enjoyed in each other for a year, and what seemed to be growing in intensity with each passing day that they remained a couple.

Before Quatre could think, he was on his back, looking up at his ceiling until Trowa’s face appeared in his view, and their lips were being pressed together again, feeding the building passion inside them both. Trowa slid his hands down to Quatre’s knees, pushing his legs apart, crawling around one of his legs to settle between them, supporting himself above his lover by his knees and elbows.

“Please Trowa… There’s time for slow and sweet later on, right now I just want you.”

Trowa laughed softly and shook his head at his lover’s antics, gently kissing along his jaw and down his neck, stopping at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, teeth falling together around a bit of skin, sucking and nibbling the small mound of flesh into a small bruise, claiming Quatre’s body so everyone could see it. He kept his weight on his knees, trying not to rub his very hard shaft against Quatre’s body to prolong the torment of the smaller boy. He pulled away from his bit of flesh just enough to watch Quatre, eyes watching his face contort in frustration as Trowa somehow managed to keep his body out of touching distance.

“Trowa what the fuck are you doing? Let me touch you!”

Quatre’s voice was rising in volume and Trowa forced their lips together, cutting off any protests as he slid his elbows under the pillow, lowering his chest to touch against the blonde’s, heat flaring between them immediately. Quatre simpered into the kiss and moved his arms to wrap around Trowa’s back, pressing his slightly taller lover closer to his chest, crushing them together. Trowa pulled back from the kiss to gasp for air, looking down into the blonde’s face, taking in the vision he made completely. His eyes were glassed over, irises a rich dark blue and his chest heaved with every breath.

“I love seeing you reduced to a quivering mess by just my kisses,” Trowa whispered, giving him a very cocky smile.

“I can’t help it you always have this effect on me. I won’t deny it at all. Please Trowa, please make love to me.”

Trowa smiled and brought his face down to inhale the masculine scent radiating off his lover’s neck. He nodded, moving away and taking another breath, wanting to cover every inch of available skin in bites and bruises, knowing that wouldn’t be entirely possible. So he curbed his appetite and pushed himself up using just his arms in a mock sort of push-up and knelt between Quatre’s legs, hands moving down his sides slowly, fingertips finding every little hollow and curve on the way down, gently pressing into them, driving Quatre’s body wild with every little touch. Well practiced fingers hesitated at the waistband of the blonde’s boxers before a finger from each hand hooked into the side and started to pull down. Quatre lifted his hips up and Trowa slid his fingers to the back to tug them past that wonderfully pert ass of his lover. Next was the tricky part, and Quatre thought Trowa was just going to move to the side and pull them the rest of the way off. But Trowa kept tugging and just leaned back a bit, yanking the blonde’s legs straight up. He unhooked the garment from one of his ankles and dove in again, pressing them apart, but keeping them up rather high, his cock resting against its partner in a soft embrace, his sac hanging just before his entrance.

“Trowa…,” Quatre whispered, hands grabbing at his arms, eyes rolling to memorize every inch of his lover’s face.

Trowa gave him an enigmatic smile and leaned forward, nudging his shaft even tighter against the blonde’s. His hand fumbled for the handle on the drawer and in his impatience he almost pulled it completely out of the nightstand. He hunched his shoulders and lowered his head, thinking for a moment and reaching behind them to grasp the sheet and pull it up, letting it settle on his back and flutter down to cover most of Quatre.

“Please love, close the door.

“Trust me Quatre, your dad is passed out downstairs, as far from us as physically possible while remaining in the house with us, so just relax and let me… Have you.” Trowa stated firmly, nuzzling at the side of his lover’s face, blindly feeling around the in the drawer, hand coming out with a small handful of condoms. He dropped them on one of the pillows and started digging around again, shoving things out of the way until his grip curled around a rather cool and big bottle. He pulled it out and grinned, leaning his mouth down to gently kiss his lover again, rocking his hips, making their cocks rub together in a very delicious movement that brought a hiss from his lips. Breaking the kiss, he used his other arm to push himself up and off to sit back on his legs, hardly touching Quatre any more.

“Touch me please Trowa,” Quatre gasped, wiggling around a bit, pushing his hips back, and trying to get any kind of contact he could.

“Patience is a virtue you don’t seem to possess love.”

Quatre frowned and folded his arms over his chest, giving the brunette his best glare. Trowa only shook his head in a mild laugh and unscrewed the lid to the bottle. He cupped his other hand and poured a liberal amount into his hand. He set the bottle upright, leaning against Quatre’s side to keep it from spilling over. With a deep steadying breath, he gently grasped his cock in his hand, stroking very lightly from tip to base and back up, coating his shaft in the slippery liquid. Letting out a soft moan, he pulled his hand away and opened his eyes, smirking as he felt Quatre’s eyes on him, watching each movement. Keeping most of the trembling out of his arms, he pushed Quatre’s legs back up with his dry hand and curled a finger to touch and tease at his entrance, working that finger inside only when Quatre began to pant and beg for more. Trowa loved to hear him beg, but he didn’t want him getting too loud… Or things would turn a sour very fast. He took a breath to steady himself, trying to go fast and slow at the same time.

“Trowa please, just don’t make me wait any more. I can’t stand the waiting!” Quatre whined out, the end of his sentence turning into a breathy cry when the digit inside twisted just slightly to tickle his prostate.

With something close to a soft sigh, Trowa removed his finger and smiled when Quatre took hold of his legs, keeping them up in the air. Trowa nudged the tip of his cock against that firm pink pucker and took a breath, carefully working it just inside, feeling Quatre’s body open and clench around him, muscles trying to keep him out at first.

“Let me in lovely… We both know it’s going to feel so good when you do,” Trowa whispered, pressing Quatre’s knees back even further, practically folding the small blonde in half.

Quatre cried out, throwing a hand over his mouth at the last moment, feeling Trowa’s shaft sink in just a bit deeper. Trowa froze, taking in a large gulp of air, trying not to thrust deeper so soon, Quatre’s body gripping him too tightly.

“Quatre, you’re too tight… I didn’t think a week without sex would do that to you,” Trowa said, the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

Quatre frowned and looked up at him, growling just a bit, lifting his hips up, and moving his arms to knock Trowa’s arms to the side. Trowa slid even deeper into his lover and braced himself on his arms, panting at the sudden heat encasing his cock.

“Quatre.”

Quatre gave him a smile and began to lift his hips up as much as he could in his position, letting out soft cries of pleasure each time he took it in deeper. Trowa took the hint and gently continued to push Quatre’s knees back until they touched his shoulders. Trowa began to pull his hips backwards, withdrawing from the blonde until just the tip remained safely buried inside before he began the slow press to fill him back up. Quatre threw his head back and tossed a pillow over his face, letting out his cries into it. Trowa smiled and tossed it aside, crushing their lips together as he continued to move and stroke Quatre from the inside out.

“Trowa, Trowa!” Quatre cried out, not caring any more. 

The sheet covered them both, though the movements under the blanket wouldn’t be… Construed as anything but sex. Trowa began to move his hips in and out faster, keeping Quatre folded in half, each thrust rubbing against his prostate, loving the way he clamped down with each movement.

“Come for me Quatre… Let me see how much you love me and what I do to you,” Trowa whispered in his ear, arms flexing with each thrust, muscles straining to bring them both pleasure.

Quatre nodded and reached a hand between his legs to touch his cock. The angle was too hard to fully maneuver his hand, so he settled for allowing his fingertips to caress and brush against the heated skin. With the last ounce of sanity he had in himself for the night, he let his nails graze over the very tip of his shaft and he arched, letting Trowa in even deeper than ever before, body clamping down like a vice, cock spitting thick white fluid out onto his stomach and chest. His fingers curled in the sheets, knuckles turning white with the pleasure. He bit down on his lip, drawing a small amount of blood as he tried not to scream with his orgasm. Trowa shuddered at the first tightening of Quatre’s body and he pressed deeply inside, the tip of his cock nudged just so against his prostate, groaning softly as he started to come, filling Quatre’s body, marking and claiming him in the most intimate of ways.

“Quatre…”

They both lay there, panting. Trowa tried to think, tried to move. He knew Quatre’s legs would start to cramp as the endorphins faded, but his body was just so heavy in the post orgasmic bliss, he didn’t think he could. With a heavy sigh, he moved one of his shoulders to the side, letting Quatre’s leg slide off and onto the bed before repeating the process with the other leg, moving his arms under the pillows on the side of Quatre’s head, resting his face in the crook of the blonde’s shoulder.

“Feel so good Trowa… Don’t leave me…”

“Why would I leave you Quatre?”

Quatre giggled softly, gently resting his hands against the brunette’s back before he continued. “I meant right now, as in your cock not leaving my body.”

“Well just let me… Get something just to help me prove that I’m not ever going to leave…” he responded, shifting his weight onto one arm and grabbing the forgotten velvet box.

“Now what is this Trowa Barton?”

“Your gift, from me. It took me quite a while to save up for it, but you’ll love it.”

Quatre smiled and planted a delicate kiss on the tip of Trowa’s nose. He took the box and held it in one hand, lifting the lid with the other, his breath catching in his throat. Inside of the box sat a plain titanium band, with a single thin ring of gold running through the center.

“Is this…?”

“Just a ring for you to wear, to let everyone know you’re taken. A promise, for when we get older and are more ready for the next step. Happy anniversary Quatre Winner.

Quatre felt himself starting to tear up again, and he dropped the box to the bed in favor of hugging and kissing his lover senseless, letting Trowa slip the ring onto his finger, glad for once that their plans hadn’t worked out.

“I love you Trowa Barton.”

“Mine forever Quatre.”


End file.
